Tuesday, February 02, 2021

In which a boa constrictor turns up, as well as the Killer ...

 


 

It was brave Ticky's turn this day to tick off Google - when she talks of a critical part of business, she means of course survival the lizard Oz and other Murdochian outlets, which provides the pond with a new notion of critical.

But no, given all the pop ups of late and the pond's overindulgence in reptile stew yesterday, the pond was seeking a quieter life than the Murdochian war for cash in the paw...

A bit of reptile hagiography of the refined bouffant kind would suit the pond down to the ground ...


 

Say what, boasting about a world-beating record in dealing with the virus? What on earth would Killer Creighton make of that?

And as for climate change, how reassuring that SloMo was unmoved. In fact the reptiles were so reassured that they put the promise at the top of the tree killer edition ...



You see? It would cost us nothing, but it was a hope, a dream, an aspiration, something to flirt with. the idea of it, the notion,  but nothing too firm, you understand, because it is after all, just fake science, as patiently explained by many reptiles over decades.

Inspired by this, Shanners couldn't help himself and wrote a squillion more words about SloMo the visionary ...


 

That's it, that's enough of SloMo the visionary?

Sorry, the pond got that wrong. Shanners was remarkably brief, but that image of SloMo as a boa constrictor, was that wise? The pond simply couldn't shake the image that lurked in its head ...



Never mind, the pond was on a roll, and wanted to hear more from the coal-clutching boa ...


 
 
Great news. It's a goal, not a target, and preferably by a date, but not really, and it won't cost anything, and dammit, new technology will save the day, because that's what Bjorn says, and what a relief for the reptiles.

Oh it could have been a dark, bleak, black day for the reptiles, but SloMo delivered the goods ... a promise that meant nothing, and yet seemed to offer hope ... or at least some kind of aspirational, inspirational yearning ...


 

What? Dark satanic mills beaten at zero cost for a pledge to pledge nothing? Thank the long absent lord it was a screen cap so the pond was spared the clickbait of SloMo in action ...

And what's this, more talk of Covid triumph when each day the reptiles berate the state premiers for their assorted follies? And what of Killer Creighton?

 

 

How, now! How, now brown cow. Here, have the solution, it's right in your paw ...



 

Ah memories, fond 'how, now' memories, but now for the final gobbet ...



 

A holy grail! Well at least it made for a funny movie, which the pond has been sampling anew in recent days ... oh those wacky zany anarcho-syndicalist commune peasants ... and so the pond turned to see what else was out there in the reptile ether this day ...



Say what? Two national days. McGowan the new beast to kill? Comrade Dan fallen off the radar? But most momentous of all, pond favourite Killer Creighton is out and about?

How mortifying, how did the pond miss it? 

The pond should have started with Killer instead of reading that terminal bore boasting about his work with the virus, when all he really wanted to do was go to the footy ...


 

Yes, there's the enemy of the day ... just look at him, why he's worse than comrade Dan, and worst of all produced a surplus ...

Of course Killer would much prefer if we'd emulated the UK and the USA, followed their tremendous policies in relation to the virus, which have been a stunning success and an economic miracle, because after all, what's a death or two, and how vulgar and demeaning it is that old folk should want to cling to life, when if they had a shred of decency, they'd just go away ...


 

Oh the humiliation ... it will be remembered that the Killer feels humiliated when wearing a mask ... and yes, bring on the US and the UK, because what the hell, where's the harm in a few people dying? 

Oh the pond knows it's fashionable to rabbit on about more civilians dying in Britain than they did in the blitz, heck in the entire war, but what a half-arsed way to look at things. You tell 'em, Killer ...


 

By golly, it's splendid logic, you'd hardly think there was a pandemic out and about. Open the borders at once, we need to stand up to all those pesky variants and teach them a lesson ...

And then the pond suddenly began to have a twinge of a doubt, if only because of the opening line in the next gobbet.

Could the Killer be a smug, self-satisfied, complacent member of the urban 'leets, shopping in the Cross and with HQ in Surry Hills? Why, that would be the sort of person out of touch with the suburbs and the regions ...

Why, that would be the sort of person that prattling Polonius, nay all of the reptiles, fear, loath and despise ... could the Killer be one of them?


 

Fancy that, young people with a sense of community and caring for neighbours, and taking precautions, just in case a hot spot bubbles up, even as the Killer assures us it will be around for yonks, but damned if he'll wear a humiliating mask ...

Vulgar youffs, follow the Killer. Remember, the US, the UK and Europe are the way forward when it comes to pandemics. Trust in the dream, kill off the old fogeys, and you shall inherit the earth (better check the will first, there are some old farts who keep the cat shop in Enmore road running).

So it goes when you're a complacent member of the urban 'leets, and so for a final word, the pond must turn to the immortal Rowe, who seemed to catch the best of SloMo, though there's plenty more Rowe catching the best here ...





10 comments:

  1. Killer C is a genuine study in practised stupidity. So: "Tobacco-related cancer kills about 10,000 people annually in Australia, according to the Cancer Council. In the US, where 40 per cent of adults are obese, diabetes killed 270,000 Americans in 2017.

    Yet we don't ban alcohol, cigarettes or sugar."


    Well he's dead right there, isn't he: you can suck a fag anywhere in public at any time and place, and slug down some grog at the same time. There's just no limits of any kind imposed on the consumption of tobacco and alcohol, is there. And as for 'pure, white and deadly', well, nobody would ever contemplate trying to enforce reduced consumption of sugar, and especially not by the young, would they.

    Not while we've still got the IPA anyway. But really, what kind of juvenile brainlessness does it take to equate 'individual voluntaries' such as tobacco, alcohol and sugar with a pandemic transmissible disease ? The kind that Murdoch's News Corpse recruits and happily employs.

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  2. I thought the Killer was being shipped (well, air freighted) to the USA, with a title like 'Washington Correspondent'?

    Has he decided that, if he did that, he might be identified with the utter rubbish that comes from Miranda? In her case, we know it is her own, um, 'work', because she can be seen saying it, right there, on the TV (or, if you wish, on your laptop, with fewer commercials).

    Anyway, it seems that the Killer is doing sociological surveys around Coles (spell that carefully) in Kings Cross.

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    1. There's a conundrum, Chad: comparing Killer C with Miranda - is he better or worse or is it a dead heat.

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    2. Thanks for that reminder Chadders. There was Killer Creighton out and about today, still bunkered down in deep economic matters. What happened? Did he have an anxiety attack about being humiliated by being forced to wear masks in the US? It's one of the deeper reptile mysteries, or perhaps the longest house packing in history ...

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  3. Interesting challenge GB. Both are in the business of writing what they think the Chairman wants to see in his propaganda. Miranda would have learned from her father that there was a good, steady, paycheck for doing that. The thing she did not learn from Frank was how to write the necessary tosh in a way that was interesting to read. I used to read many of Frank's columns because I admired his facility with words, but his daughter has none of that. She comes across to me as a whiney sort of person - as Tucker Carlson has become.

    So, if it is to be a contest - Miranda started with an advantage, but has not developed her skills to match the parvenu - 'Killer'. But if it is a competition, it is about sinking to the bottom - there is no sense in either of them of helping readers educate themselves, or consider other aspects of the meaning of life, or even to provide a little entertainment or diversion for a few minutes. Their combined outputs in any year have less impact than one David Pope cartoon.

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    1. I can't remember ever having read any Devine Pere work, so I'll take your assurance as to his word skills. Other than that, excellently delineated and expressed, sir, in respect of them both.

      And apart from that, there's no obvious enthusiasm for the wife of Michael Stutchbury and ex-ABC The Business presenter either.

      All in all, a most unmemorable reptile day.

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    2. You are right about Frank Devine. He never said much that was very different from what his daughter says, but he was able to say it in a really funny way, so that I often laughed out loud. This doesn’t happen with other reptile comedians e.g. Tim Blair who I dare say has never said anything funny in his whole life.

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  4. Yes NH - from when we first became aware of him, this Blair seems to have been an example of the 'young man with a great future behind him'.

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    1. Now, now Chad: via Wikipedia, DuckDuckGo assures me that: "Sydney Morning Herald describing him as a "top dog among the new Australian digerati" who "some days draws more than 20,000 readers to his website."

      Wau man, as many as 20,000 on some days. Just think of it, 20,000 out of at least maybe 15 million possible viewers/readers. Just wau.

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  5. and if this Blair is 'top dog' - the Wiki has another wholly appropriate entry -

    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/On_the_Internet,_nobody_knows_you're_a_dog

    for the justly famous Steiner cartoon - which is framed above my desk.

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